As Joffrey So Wishes
by kingjoffrey
Summary: After Joffrey and Margaery get engaged, Sansa thinks she is free to go, but Joffrey has other things in store for our little bird. There wil be adult content in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_This starts out at the beggining of 2.10 (season two, episode ten) when Petyr talks to Sansa right after Joffrey and Margaery are engaged, but things don't go as planned. _

_A/N: This is something that just transpired out of no where, really. I want to explore Joffrey's character a bit more and I might perhaps, go a little out of character in the sense that Joffrey might not be so cruel...Tell me what you think :)_

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_Sansa knew she should be feeling anger, humiliation, and rejection, yet she felt nothing but relief, a feeling that had deserted her since the day she set foot in King's Landing, despite having been filled with joy and wonder. Just the mere thought of never having to be in King Joffrey's presence, never having to bear his children, oh what sweet mercy!_

"_My Lady!" Sansa gasped, turning around only to find Petyr staring back at her, his words already making way to her ears._

"_My sincerest condolences," Sansa put on her mask and answered him._

"_They're right I'm not good enough for him – "_

"_You shouldn't say that, you'd be good enough for many things. He'd still enjoy beating you," he paused and Sansa's stomach dropped, "and now that you're a woman he'll be able to enjoy you in many other ways as well." At those words Sansa couldn't help but show her confusion, but most of all, her naivety._

"_But…if he's not marrying me – "_

"_He'd let you go home?" He scoffed at his words, or hers, either way the look he gave her made Sansa feel sick._

"_Joffrey's not the sort of boy who gives away his toys."_

Night had fallen and Sansa was back in her chambers. Petyr had been right. Joffrey wasn't going to let go of her. If she hadn't already shed the last bit of tears hours before, perhaps she would've had to fight them back, but now all she could do was swallow. Sansa had nothing left but her honor and pride.

Joffrey's men had come for her before Petyr could help. They'd locked her in her chambers for two days before Joffrey had the decency to show up and acknowledge her existence. She jeered at her own mistake; of course, Joffrey had no decency.

"Lady Stark," Joffrey had smirked, his eyes glistening at the sight of her, battered and alone. At that moment all Sansa wanted to do was to spit at his feet but sense told her it would be unwise…so she acknowledged him with as much restraint as she could possibly muster.

"My Lord," what more could she say?

"That's right Lady Stark, I am still your lord, your king." At those words Joffrey stood up straighter than was necessary and strutted in her chambers like a rooster looking for a nest to settle in.

There was silence before he turned to acknowledge her once more.

"Pity really – you're far prettier than her you know." Sansa felt disgust for him and pity for the girl who was to be his beloved queen.

"You are too kind, my king."

Joffrey moved closer to her and raised his arm to her face. He gently stroked her cheek with the back of this hand and leaned into her.

"I'm really not _that_ kind," bile rose in Sansa's throat and she swallowed as she closed her eyes at the proximity of Joffrey. Despite being a despicable person, a loathsome, evil, vile human being – Joffrey was still king and could do whatever that blond head so pleased…

"So you've had your first blood," It wasn't a question really. Sansa could see it in his shining blue eyes, which now stared up and down at her, not so much seizing up her womanhood but instead testing to see how far he could go. Despite everything, Joffrey still felt a buried fear for the Starks, for this girl he couldn't quite break.

Sansa nodded. Joffrey tilted his head and stepped back two steps.

"Good."

And then he had left. Sansa had fallen to the floor, weary and tear filled as the last steps of her once beloved King faded with the shut of the wooden door.


	2. Chapter 2

The incident had drained Sansa. She wondered when the Queen would show her face; after all it had been her idea to betroth Joffrey to Margaery. Sansa didn't have the same amount of hatred towards the Queen as she did for her child and after three days of being shut off in her chambers she still didn't know if what the Queen had done was meant to hurt her or help her.

Even Shae, her trusted handmaid, was no longer hers – a fact that made Sansa feel utterly alone. Had this been their plan all along? Make the stupid child of Ned Stark believe she was to marry the King only to become a prisoner in the same castle except with no title, no honor, and no freedom? At least if she were Queen she would have dignity and a purpose, now what was her purpose? She was merely a hostage and a woman hostage at that. The Queens stories about the women of a seized land being raped and hung came to Sansa's mind – how was she any different? She had pledged her allegiance to Joffrey, her love and loyalty to him and King's Landing. She felt like a traitor of the North and she truly didn't belong here, so where was she to go? She had no place to go.

"Here, you must eat. The King would be unhappy." The guard was not unkind but he was also forceful. The tray of food he lay before her was appealing enough and yet she did not feel the need to eat.

"Set it by the table please." Her voice was monotone and soft.

"To hell with that. The King specifically ordered me to stay here until every last crumb of it is gone."

"Well then you better take a seat or your legs will tire," Sansa snapped back. The guard chuckled.

"You've got a sharp tongue girl. Too bad that doesn't shield you from the likes of Joffrey and his guard. Listen to me child; the others won't be as easy. Might as well get this over with or that pretty little face of yours will be covered in bruises."

Sansa did not care. Sure it was the only thing keeping her alive. Her pretty face. That was all she had going for her.

"No."

The guard sighed and shook his head and said, "Very well," as he walked over to her bedside and set the tray of food down. He did not look at her after that and she was left alone.

"Get up."

Sansa's eyes opened and she swallowed as the King's steely gaze and pursed lips met her sight. He glanced at the food set beside her before yanking her out of the bed.

"Do you take me for a fool, my lady?"

"No, of course not. Why would I?"

"You defy my orders and look at you, so skinny only after three days. Do you think it pleases me to see you wither away?"

Sansa was taken aback. Joffrey, _the_ Joffrey caring whether or not she lived or died?

Joffrey grinned.

"Of course I do not care whether you die starving or under a sword, but," his face was only inches from hers. She could smell his musk and some other fragrance she couldn't quite figure out.

"I want you pretty and plump and mine. Now eat."

"Very well," Sansa sighed. She _was_ a bit hungry.

"This is ridiculous you know. I shouldn't be here wasting my time on a wench. I should be spending my time strategizing and courting my Queen to be."

So that was her duty then. She was going to be the King's personal prostitute. She stared at the food, the fruit had already begun to spoil, and she wanted to kill Joffrey. Who was here to help him?

Stupid girl, she thought to herself. Just eat. And so she did. After some time she forgot Joffrey was still in the room until he opened up his gob.

"I like the way you eat Sansa," It was the first time he'd called her by her name since…well she couldn't quite remember.

"You are dainty and innocent. Unmarred. I like that," Sansa stole a glance at him and she became frightened. His face was eager, too eager. His eyes had looked hungry but it was a different type of hunger she didn't recognize.

Joffrey watched the young girl eat. He was 15. By most standards he was almost a man but it did not take a man to realize how much of a gem Sansa was. He would never admit it, of course but he wanted this girl. He wanted to be the first because she was still his after all.

Sansa did not finish it all but at this point Joffrey didn't give a damn. He wanted to experiment. He set aside the tray of half eaten food and stood over Sansa. He reached down and tilted her chin up – her eyes were cast down but she was eventually forced to look up at him.

"Let's play a game, shall we, my lady?"

Sansa gulped. She didn't like the sound of that.

"Wha – what sort of game, my king."

"Dolls."

Sansa's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Dolls? The king wanted to play with dolls?

"Sir there are no dolls in my room but If you would like them to fetch us some I – "

Joffrey laughed. "Of course not, you stupid girl, I don't want to play with _plastic_ dolls. I want to play with you."

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_What will Joffrey do next?_


	3. Chapter 3

_Excuse Me for the delay, but I've made this chapter a bit longer and it gets more juicy as well ;)_

_Disclaimer: I do not own A Game of Thrones or the ASOIF series and its respective characters_

_Also, please leave me a review? I haven't read all the books (I've just picked up book one) so I will make mistakes._

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"Stand there."

Joffrey's eyes followed Sansa as she walked to the middle of the room. He was resting his thumb on his chin and rubbing his lips with his pointer finger in thought.

_Her_ hands, however, were slightly shaking but she held her head high. Perhaps if she looked confident she would actually begin to feel it.

"No, that won't do. Just go sit on the bed." He turned around in a sweeping motion before walking to the wooden door and hastily opening it. A sparkle of hope grew in Sansa and she wondered if he had gotten bored of her that easily, but alas it was false hope.

"Don't let anyone in," Joffrey growled at his guards. Sansa's palms began to sweat and she felt a dread like she had never felt before. Quickly, before he noticed anything, Sansa wiped her hands on the bed sheets. Joffrey turned around.

"Where were we?" His eyes looked intently at her for a second before turning them towards an armchair placed next to the high windows across from her bed. He lazily strutted towards it and unclasped his cape.

"Mother would have a fit," he turned to Sansa and grinned. She wondered if it would be unwise to question his statement and finally decided that it wouldn't hurt to ask.

"If she knew what, my king." Yes, make him feel as if she were still loyal to him; despite everything.

He didn't answer right away. Carefully setting his cape across the armchair, he adjusted the hilt of his sword, which he kept on, and lazily walked back to her.

Sansa noticed the way his trousers clung to his tapered waist. There was no doubt he was fit.

"Don't," Sansa told herself. He's vile.

Joffrey leaned against the wall next to her bed and Sansa couldn't help but sweep her eyes over his figure. Her actions did not go unnoticed.

"You like what you see, my lady?" His smirk was enough to make her want to gag. Joffrey definitely didn't need any more reason to expand his already bloated ego. She tried to play it off by looking down at her lap – bad idea.

From her position she saw him take one, two, three steps towards her. She had to look up eventually, but before she could take a deep breath and face him, Joffrey tilted her chin up for her.

"I asked you, a question." His tone was threatening and Sansa swallowed.

"I – I do not think it would be appropriate my king." She licked her lips; somehow she knew this answer would not satisfy him. She was right.

His hand abruptly left her face and fell onto the handle of his sword.

"Take off your dress."

Sansa was so shocked she froze in place, her mouth was slightly open.

"Did you not hear me woman? Take off the damn dress. Gods, you never listen."

"But my lord, I – I can't."

Wrong choice of words.

Joffrey closed in the already small space between them so fast Sansa's breath caught in her throat.

"I didn't fucking stutter." His eyes were blazing and his mouth held on to that arrogant sneer of his.

Sansa was mortified, but slowly she undid her dress until it was fanned on the floor beside her feet. She had undergarments but they were paper thin, surly he could see everything…she couldn't look Joffrey in the eye.

There was a moment of silence before the King spoke once more.

"I've seen women you know, naked. Just weeks ago, the imp sent me a couple whores to do whatever I wanted with them. Thoughtful some would say but I'd be cursed if I ever laid with women my uncle has fucked." Joffrey distastefully spat out the words imp and uncle from his lips, as if the very thought of Tyrion soured him. Sansa was honestly at a loss for words. Was she to say, "Oh, congratulations, I'm glad you had fun?"

Joffrey crossed his arms.

"I didn't just send them away though. I made them useful," he grinned at some far away thought that made Sansa wrap her arms around herself. Again, she shouldn't have done so.

"Don't cover yourself. In fact, take off those stupid undergarments it's not like they do much, anyway."

Sansa knew better than to argue so she numbly nodded before unlacing the single bowtie in the front that would expose her…

"And stand up while you do it, wait, let me sit down first." Joffrey's smirk was plastered back onto his face, except this time his eyes shone with the brightness of a child getting ready to open up a present. Sansa did not see coldness, not really. It was more greed. There was that hunger again she'd seen in him the first day he had visited her – a hunger she couldn't quite make out.

The king climbed next to her and comfortably positioned himself at the head of the large bed. He motioned for her to get up and pointed to his left. Trying not to look scared, Sansa did what she was told but not before surveying Joffrey's form. Pity he was such a putrid human being for Joffrey sure was easy on the eyes…

"Right then, go ahead." Sansa nodded once before letting loose the bow. The chill of air touching her now exposed skin made her skin break out in goose bumps all through out her body. She darted her eyes down to her nipples and realized they stood taut and the soft flesh around them became pink at the thought. In fact, she figured her face and the rest of her body were now pink with embarrassment. How wonderful.

Her arms hung loosely at her side except for her hands, which were made into tight fists.

Joffrey put a finger in his mouth and was light nipping at the tips before he raised his other arm and made a twirling motion in the air.

Sansa was furious.

She wasn't some pet or some whore he could look at whenever he pleased – she wasn't even going to be his wife! How could he do this to her! The shame! It was too much, she couldn't, she wouldn't…

"Is something the matter, Sansa?" Joffrey's eyes were narrowed and he had propped himself up on one elbow. Sansa was now left with two choices. Anger the king and suffer the consequences, or show him what he wanted.

Sansa was a survivor. She knew getting locked up or worse, getting killed, would hurt her whole family. Her mother didn't need another reason to suffer.

"No," Sansa muttered in resignation.

She closed her eyes while she spun for Joffrey. She couldn't bare look him in the eyes. She didn't want to.

Sansa opened them when she heard the springs of the mattress groin with the sound of Joffrey moving. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, drinking her up.

Joffrey had noted the size of the whore's breasts. The way their bottoms had curved upwards in a very pleasing manner. Yet he had not wanted to lay a finger on them. Not one, but now here stood innocent little Sansa Stark. She was taller than the two whores, yet not quite as developed, he could tell. She was younger than him so there was still time for her to grow into her womanly shape, but what stood before him – this girl, was something he wanted to touch _very_ much.


	4. Chapter 4

_Things are getting steamy ahhh_

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything Game of Thrones related :')_

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Joffrey noted the way Sansa's small chest rose and fell with every breath she took. Her skin was pale and lovely. It looked so soft to the touch and her cheeks were flushed in a very appealing manner. She looked so frail and feminine – something he could so easily control…

"Yes, I dare say you are much more lovely than my soon to be wife. Shame."

Sansa looked down at her feet at his revelation, not quite sure if she felt disgust or flattery. Just the fact that she was standing completely naked in front of a man who was never to be her husband made her feel cheap and dirty, but he was the king after all.

Sansa was startled out of her thoughts when she felt herself being pulled forward. Joffrey had both his hands placed firmly on her hips and though she protested when he forced her to straddle him, it was no use.

"Stay," he muttered thickly. Where once he would have been angered at her objection, there was only annoyance and lust in his voice. Sansa grew hot but not due to the temperature of the bedchamber. She could feel his erection beneath her, a sensation, which embarrassingly enough made her bite her lip.

His hands gently made their way down to her thighs and back up to her hips and instead of kissing her when leaning over, he bit her lip with a softness Sansa did not think Joffrey possessed. Her eyes closed then and she felt her breath grow more ragged.

"No, no, no." She thought to herself. He can't do this to me. I won't feel these things for him. Those feelings had left her after the beheading of her father! Her protests were weak spirited though and when she opened her eyes Joffrey was barely an inch away from her face. His breath smelled sickly sweet and his eyes were half closed.

"Mother stopped caring about the number of women father fucked on a daily basis, perhaps Margaery will do me the same courtesy…" He grinned. Sansa, alarmed at his words tried to pull back from his hold but Joffrey was strong for his age or maybe she was just too weak, either way he clamped on to her hips with his hands and she stopped struggling. There were sure to be bruises the next day but what else was new?

"You are mine Sansa Stark and don't you forget it." With that Joffrey smashed his mouth against hers and the fact that Sansa wasn't kissing him back did not deter his efforts. Sansa's resolve began to weaken however and she soon found herself molding her mouth against his. He demanded passage with his tongue and she conceded – returning him the favor. His hands were now roaming her body freely, groping and pulling and grazing. She let out a moan as his lips parted hers and instead made contact with her neck. He licked and sucked at the base of her jaw and she squirmed underneath him, panting and arching her back in order to allow him better access, but Joffrey had moved on to his next prize.

Her breasts stood small, round, and perky. He nipped at her nipples and held on to them while he swirled his tongue around the soft flesh. She could feel him grin as she moaned and clamped on to his waist with her thighs – she was throbbing now and she needed him to do something about it.

"My lady, look what you have done to the cloth," Joffrey whispered. Sansa, still fuzzy from her earlier pleasures noted his pants were soaked with _her_. Blushing madly she made a move to climb off him but he pressed her to him.

"No," Joffrey ordered. She slumped on to him and he swiftly laid her on her back. His sheathed sword fell on to her leg and Joffrey bit his lip as he undid his sword and held it gingerly between his hands. Sansa held her breath while Joffrey trailed the still protected blade from her sternum down to the top of her lips, which was covered by a small fuzz of dark auburn hair. He parted her closed legs while subsequently also parting her folds so that she lay exposed beneath him. Sansa's eyes were wide and she had not let go of her breath until Joffrey finally put his beloved sword aside but kept her legs firmly opened with his free hand.

"Don't worry love, my sword will never touch your lovely skin." Sansa was not relieved for it was not the first time Joffrey had promised her something and later broken it, but she nodded nonetheless.

Joffrey kept on staring however and after a minute or two Sansa turned her gaze away. This was too much. What had she done? Was she a whore now?

She felt a hand against her cheek before he tucked some loose strands behind her ear. She turned back to him and he stared at her with eyes that looked confused, if not sad. She had been so preoccupied by his stare that she had not felt his sly fingers making their way down to her opening. She let out a gasp as he inserted his middle finger inside her. She was ready enough but the sensation was so sudden and alien that Sansa began to rise up from underneath Joffrey. He of course stopped her but instead of using words, he used his mouth. His lips tugged hers, one hand down below and the other holding her arms above her head.

He liked being in control.

Sansa moaned and gasped as his finger swirled around inside of her and then began to slide in and out. She hugged his hips with her thighs and stopped kissing him as the sensation of yet another finger caused her to protest in pain.

"Joffrey, it hurts," she whimpered but Joffrey didn't listen to her. Eventually the pain ebbed away and Joffrey slid out of her. He brought his fingers to his face and inhaled – Sansa bit her lip and flushed pink.

"What is a maid? Ice and desire…" Joffrey was speaking to himself. What was Sansa to do? Her arms were still being held above her and Joffrey was so unpredictable…she didn't want to ruin the moment.

"I need to leave." Joffrey said abruptly with closed eyes. Sansa tilted her head in confusion.

"Is something the matter, my king?" There was a pause. Of course Sansa shouldn't have asked him anything. Since when did Joffrey tell her any of his plans or why he acted the way he did? So she was pleasantly surprised when Joffrey answered her query, more or less.

"I need to speak to mother…don't worry about it. You have permission to walk around in the gardens." His eyes had opened by now but he still held her arms above her head, but upon realizing this, he brought them down so that Sansa was staring at him in a more comfortable position; although his hands were still wrapped tightly around hers, "Don't try anything stupid though or I will know and you will be punished." Joffrey said with narrowed eyes his threat marring his earlier gentleness. He thrived on intimidation.

Sansa nodded, her eyes expressing confusion and regret, but most of all, her surrender to his request and perhaps, to him.

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_I've got half of the next chapter written out and I have a sense of where this story (I'll call it that for now) is going. Stick with me guys! I enjoy seeing feedback whether it's positive or not. I was trying to figure out whether or not I should call Joffrey's pants, pants (lol) because I honestly don't know what they call them in the GoT world..tunic? His breeches...oh well haha. Anyway, tell me what you guys think :)_


	5. Chapter 5

_My guess is I'll try to update every 3-4 days. The more reviews, the more motivation ;) But really, thank you for the positive and or constructive reviews._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones, the ASIOF series and its respective characters._

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**Chapter Five**

That night Sansa did not sleep well. She felt too many contradicting emotions but the most obvious ones were guilt and confusion.

Guilt because the man she had been in bed with completely naked to say the least was her father's murder; the main reason why the war had begun in the first place, but was Joffrey really the cause of _everything_? Perhaps he had set the ball rolling with the murder of her father, an act she will never forgive him for, but wasn't it her father who committed treason in the first place? Why had he gone and planned to overthrow Joffrey? There had to be a reason, her father had been a just man, she knew it in her heart but she also knew there was too much she _didn't_ know. How could she come up with a conclusion when all the important details were hidden from her?

Deep down inside she still had feelings for Joffrey. She was still that same naïve girl who dreamed of her prince charming all tall, blond, and handsome, who would sweep her off her feet and make her his queen. She still yearned for her happily ever after. She wanted children she would care for and a kingdom that would look at Joffrey and her as fair but strong rulers.

She groaned. It was too late for her people to see Joffrey as anything but a monster though! He had proven time and time again he was unmerciful and cruel and the sad thing was Sansa knew Joffrey enjoyed it. He enjoyed seeing others in pain and suffering. He enjoyed the control and he reveled in the power he held. Perhaps there had been hope for him, once upon a time, but right now Sansa didn't think Joffrey could change for anyone or anything in the world.

She cried at this thought because she wanted to love him. To love this heartless man that treated her like scum. A man who had killed her father for crying out loud! How could she still have feelings for a murder?

The castle was calm and all she could hear was the pounding of her heartbeat and the quarrels in her head, but at last Sansa Stark fell into a deep but nightmarish sleep.

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The next morning Sansa woke up to a commotion outside her door shortly followed by the sound of the large wooden doors of her bedchamber opening.

"You fool!"

Sansa's mouth slightly opened and her eyes widened at the sight of the Queen, her expression wild with fury and her voice slightly out of breath.

"What have you done to Joffrey? Are you mad! If this is your way at getting back at me then you are sadly mistaken, oh I swear…" Sansa was trying to wrap her head around everything the Queen was saying but she simply wasn't making any sense.

"My Queen," Sansa's eyes lowered as a show of respect, "I don't know what you're talking about – I'm lost."

The Queen glared at Sansa.

"Are you telling me you have no idea what Joffrey asked me last night?" Sansa shook her head.

"I see," the queen responded as she walked next to Sansa's bed, pausing for a fraction of a second before she began to slowly trail her hand on the edge of the bed until she was at Sansa's feet.

"I know what my son is. What he's become." The Queen's voice was soft and she was staring down at her feet. Sansa held her breath.

"Marrying Joffrey to Margaery was supposed to be a mercy to you. The girl is made out of stone – Joffrey's tempers and demands will not break her." Sansa was about to speak up but the Queen held up her hand.

"I'm not calling you weak, little dove. You are anything but weak but I was in your place once. I was young and full of hope and full of love for Robert, once a long time ago. The years have not been kind to me. I have three beautiful children whom I desperately love. Yes, even Joffrey, but it wasn't supposed to turn out this way…nothing ever goes as planned." At this point her eyes lifted and the look she gave Sansa was filled with sadness. Sansa spoke up.

"What did Joffrey say to you, my Queen." Sansa wrapped her arms around herself.

Queen Cersei licked her lips and gave Sansa a hard look.

"He wants to marry you." Sansa gasped.

"But what about Margaery?" Her voice was hushed and there was something growing in her heart. She tried to suppress it.

"She doesn't matter. She never did. Her families loyalty, however, is a whole other matter...I told Joffrey how unwise this action would be. We don't need any more enemies."

Sansa looked down and wondered if Cersei's confession of mercy had all been a lie. After all, it was very convenient for Joffrey to marry such a handy ally. She on the other hand would bring nothing to the table, except for maybe her looks, but what good could that do during times of war? Her House was made up of traitors and her father had been beheaded for treason.

"I don't understand why Joffrey would want to marry me..." Sansa was being sincere and the Queen saw this.

"I argued with him. I pleaded. He seems to want you…" At this Cersei gave Sansa a curious look.

"Tell me Sansa. Have you and my son been intimate?" Sansa's face heated up and she began to nervously play with her hands.

"No – well, not exactly." She couldn't look Cersei in the eye.

"Tell me." The Queen was not playing around. Whether or not she would judge Sansa didn't really matter any more. Sansa supposed if there was anyone she had to tell this to it would be Cersei. She took a deep breath and told the Queen about Joffrey disrobing her. The way he had touched her except for perhaps the more embarrassing details of her reaction to his touch. Cersei clasped her hands behind her back and walked back next to Sansa.

"The counsel will not be pleased," Cersei sighed and shook her head, "but when has he ever cared about what they have to say. Child, if he truly does want to marry you and heaven knows whatever Joffrey wants, he gets, then I suppose there is nothing I can do to help you."

Sansa shivered. Was Joffrey really such a bad person that even his mother did not wish him upon her? Nevertheless, he _wanted_ to marry. The hope she was trying to keep in check peeked its head out of its hiding place. Perhaps…

"I hope you aren't giving my lady any trouble, mother." Startled, both Sansa and the Queen turned to stare at Joffrey who glared at Cersei as he strode into Sansa's bedchambers.

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_I feel like the dialogue is a bit choppy, sorry about that, I'm not the best writer when it comes to dialogue but either way, what did you all think?_


	6. Chapter 6

_Finally! Here you go, I've made this chapter slightly longer, hope you enjoy!_

Guest_: _I know what you mean! I searched and there are NO fics out there long enough to quench my thirst for J/S..it was pretty disappointing but there are some wonderful one shots so at least there's_ something!_

Celestial Kitten16: Thank you! I was thinking of breeches...**[spoilers?]** and I really wanted Joffrey to care, to show his vulnerability. I have not read the books but I do know Joffrey's fate. **[end spoilers] **I think what I want to get out of this fic is a way to redeem Joffrey. I want him to be the misunderstood villain.

Krista: That is the whole point to this story! I want to show Joffrey's humanity. Also, I have the BIGGEST crush on Jack Gleeson...like you have no idea! So for me liking Joffrey is 50% Jack Gleeson's fault!

_Disclaimer: I do not own Game of thrones._

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**Chapter Six**

Cersei's expression did not change. Instead she acknowledged him by nodding her head.

"Of course not. Sansa and I were merely chatting." There was a slight change to her face now; a tiny smile formed by either mockery or humor; Sansa was not sure which, perhaps both. Joffrey was not amused.

"Do you take me for a fool?" He tilted his head a bit with his mouth slightly open.

"No but she does need to realize the position she is now in. People will not be happy. They will talk." Joffrey rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air.

"Let them talk! I'll shut them up with my sword if I have to! No one tells me what to do and if I want to marry Sansa then so be it. Come here my lady."

Sansa rose unsure if she should add anything to the conversation so she just looked at Cersei with wide, sad eyes. The Queen's stare was cold.

"I see that you have no need for me anymore," Cersei whispered. Joffrey sighed and rubbed his temples.

"Mother I don't want to hear this." Cersei swallowed and nodded once.

"As you wish."

She left with her head high but her fists were clenched to her side. Once she was out of earshot Joffrey turned to Sansa, "She's just jealous…She doesn't want me to marry you…strange considering she was always the first to protest whenever I disciplined you." Sansa swallowed remembering all the times Joffrey had made his guards slap her. The memory was sour.

"You need to get dressed," Joffrey snapped all of a sudden.

"Yes, my king," Sansa replied. On cue, two handmaidens walked in, curtsied to the King, and stood on either side of Sansa as they dragged her to the bath. Just before walking through the doorway, Sansa glanced back at Joffrey who still stood rooted his earlier spot with a look on his face just as difficult to decipher as Cersei's had earlier before. Perhaps it ran in the family.

The water felt amazing. Sansa wished she could keep her head submerged under water forever…

"M'lady, lady Sansa, Sansa…"

Sansa took a huge gulp of air as she resurfaced – both the handmaids, neither of them Shae mind you, just stared at her with a look some might give the mentally insane.

"Well aren't you going to wash my hair?" Sansa snapped at the older looking one.

"Yes, pardon me." Not really listening, Sansa leaned back against the tub and let the two girls do their job. She relaxed then, closing her eyes and only moving when she had to. When the whole ordeal was complete, she stepped out of the tub and slipped.

There was a commotion where the two handmaids rushed over to Sansa and were squawking around making Sansa all the more angry and embarrassed.

"Just leave me alone! Leave!" She was crying at this point. "Where's Shae? Bring her to me!" The younger girl gulped before nodding and rushing out into the castle.

"Well, aren't you going to help me up?" Sansa looked up at the older girl whose wide eyes were actually quite pretty. The girl nodded and gently helped Sansa get to her feet.

At last she was in a robe and in her bed when she heard the sound of a voice she thought she would never hear again.

"M'lady." Shay curtsied to Sansa and lowered her head. Sansa signaled the other two girls out with a wave of her hand and once the chamber doors shut, she rushed over to Shae before sobbing in her arms.

"Ssshhh, it's ok m'lady, it's ok. Everything will be alright." They walked back to Sansa's bed and sat on the edge.

"Shae, I thought I'd never see you again," Sansa lowered her eyes before continuing. "You were my only friend…"

Shae gave Sansa a small smile before clasping her hands around Sansa's fragile ones.

"I know. I thought so too." She sighed. "There isn't much to tell you, m'lady, except that I am now Margaery's…"

"What?!" Sansa exploded.

"It's true. I had no choice. She's a strange one, that Margaery."

Sansa was furious. She didn't know why, exactly! She just was.

"Maybe it wasn't such a good idea for you to come then incase Margaery starts asking questions."

"Oh she won't," Shae responded with a smile, "I'm supposed to be at the supermarket right now but I hardly venture out of the castle any more."

"Oh. Won't the other maids tell on you? Trust me, you can't keep secrets in Red Keep."

Shae shrugged. "I'm not trying to keep secrets, I just have others go out for me. Besides, laziness among the staff of Red Keep is also known." Shae winked at Sansa and patted her on the thigh.

"But I must be leaving now m'lady. It is about time I got back from my errand." Sansa gave Shae a sad smile and Shae returned it by throwing her arms around her.

"I will keep in touch, don't fret!"

"You better," Sansa added.

Shae's absence only made Sansa feel that much more alone. Of course it wouldn't be like before the whole Margaery marriage proposal thing happened, but wait, why was Margaery still in King's Landing…shouldn't she be gone by now? Surly word of Joffrey's new change of plans should have gotten around the castle.

The door to her bedchambers opened before she could finish her thoughts. It was Joffrey. Not sure if she should approach him with her newfound realization, Sansa curtsied and watched him with tired eyes.

"Is something the matter my lady?" Sansa pursed her lips as a battle broke out in her head. Should she ask him why Margaery was still here? She decided on keeping her mouth shut, after all, she was quite good at it.

"No, I'm just tired is all. I slipped," Sansa added casually glancing down at her side, "There's probably a bruise already forming." She giggled nervously. Perhaps it was better to keep the conversation light. Joffrey however did not seem amused.

"Show me." He furrowed his eyebrows and kneeled down in front of Sansa who turned pink.

"I – I'm naked." Stupid girl, she thought. Of course he wouldn't care. She was right.

"I've already seen you Sansa," he smirked and just like that he looked like the old Joffrey; cocky and so sure of himself. Sansa didn't like that Joffrey.

Sansa nodded, took a deep breath and slowly slid her robe off her shoulders. Her skin was exposed and goose bumps formed all over her body. Joffrey's eyes did not stray from hers until the robe was pooled around her on the bed, and then he looked down, lingering slightly more on her chest and her stomach.

The bruise was already turning a light purple color right on her hip. Joffrey glanced back at Sansa before reaching towards her. She didn't stop him.

He touched the bruise itself with only his thumb but rested the rest of his hand on the unbruised part of her hip. Sansa held her breath the whole time.

"Be careful from now on, ok?" Joffrey looked away. When he turned back to Sansa he looked different, somehow, "And get dressed. You may rest for a while but I will be back later." Sansa nodded and made a move to put the robe back on. He didn't stop her. There was a moment of silence before Joffrey got back to his feet, he bit his lip and then stepped forward.

His lips were soft against her forehead. Sansa gave him a sad smile and he returned it with a nod before turning around and striding out of the doorway.

Sansa fell back on the bed and sighed. What was Joffrey playing at. Why was he being so nice to her? There had to be a catch.

"Maybe…he's changed," Sansa whispered but even to her it seemed to good to be true.

"M'lady, your clothes are waiting for you." The younger girl was standing in the doorway. She was small and couldn't have been more than 11 years old – close to her sister's age…

Oh no! Arya! Sansa had been so busy worrying about herself that she'd completely forgotten about her sister!

"Girl, come here. Tell me, has my sister been found?" The servant girl looked at the ground and shook her head, "No m'lady."

Sansa bit her lip. If they haven't found her there was still a chance Arya was still alive.

She had to believe Arya was ok. There was no other option.


	7. Chapter 7

_I am so sorry about this delay! I have been so busy with school and I needed to get my grades up for uni but IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY THAT SO MANY OF YOU ARE SO INTERESTED IN THIS STORY! _

_I have the next couple of chapters outlined and I just had to get this one out quick so as not to keep you waiting! Hopefully I'll update tomorrow!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones._

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

"You see dear, the embroidery, and the lace is one of the most sought out in Westeros…."

Sansa was not paying attention. It had been two weeks since her unpleasant visit with Cersei and Joffrey. Since then, the Queen had not stopped by; whether it was on Joffrey's orders or merely out of pride, Sansa did not know. Joffrey had stopped by a couple times, but only to bury her with useless information regarding the wedding.

She smiled down at the little woman with her bags of silk, lace, and jewels and bowed her head before excusing herself. She didn't have time for these small frivolities. Once outside her bedchamber she quickened her pace until she was outdoors. The fresh air felt nice and she closed her eyes as she tried to block out her world, her life. Everything had turned out wrong...all wrong...

"Lady Stark."

Sansa's eyes snapped open. Turning around, she gave Sir Baelish a curtsy.

"How are things going for you?" The expression this small man gave her was a curious one, a mix between genuine curiosity and mockery; perhaps Sansa was just assuming things.

"I'm well, thank you for asking, and you?" Sir Baelish raised a brow and shrugged, "As good as any man in my position could be." There was an awkward pause before he spoke once more.

"Enough with this small talk, we both know I've come here to discuss more important matters." It was Sansa's turn to raise a brow.

"Very well, shall we take a walk?"

"A most welcome suggestion, my lady." Littlefinger held out an arm for her and Sansa took it rather uneasily, as the small man pressed himself closer than was necessary.

"So what are these matters you wish to speak to me about, my lord?" Littlefinger gave a small laugh and said in the most casual tone, "How is it that such a delicate little girl has managed to get back on Joffrey's good side? And without my help, nonetheless!"

Sansa blushed and stared straight ahead of her.

"It's not like I begged him to take me back and it's not like I had any help from the outside," she said in an accusatory tone.

"I apologize my lady but I work behind the scenes, perhaps this whole thing was all my doing, for all you know…"

Sansa slowed down her pace but she was not fooled. Why else would he ask her how she'd gotten Joffrey to pay attention to her? He was playing with her now, she couldn't let him toy with her.

"It doesn't matter anymore. Joffrey wants to marry me – only he can change his mind."

"True you are, true you are, but he is such a hasty boy, with a horrible temper…is that really what you want in a husband?"

It seemed to Sansa that this was perhaps the reason for Littlefinger's visit.

"Does it matter what I want in a husband?" She looked straight at Littlefinger whose eyes had narrowed slightly.

"Of course not," he answered curtly.

There was an uncomfortable stretch of silence before Littlefinger spoke once more.

"Excuse me if I gave you the wrong impression, my lady. You may not know this but your mother and I were quite close, as children. I would do anything for her, which means I do not want any harm to come to you, and this is where I tell you the reason for being here in the first place."

Sansa's eyes scanned their location and lowered her voice, "Is this really the right place to talk about this?"

Littlefinger's eyes sparkled and he smiled at the closest servant, "Don't worry, these are my lot, and besides, I won't say anything too detrimental." He gave her a reassuring smile that Sansa didn't want to return. She nodded instead and waited.

"Very well," Littlefinger continued, "the reason for my visit is merely to offer you a helping hand…and perhaps some advice and some knowledge."

"Knowledge on what?" Sansa's brows furrowed.

"Not on what, my lady, but on who." The smile that grew on Littlefinger's face was a devilish one – so knowing that it made the hairs on the back of Sansa's neck stand up.

"Knowledge is power and I have a lot of both," he continued.

Sansa was done trying to tiptoe around the subject. What kind of knowledge would benefit her and what did she have to do to get it out of Littlefinger? He obviously liked playing games, hopefully she wasn't going to be one of them.

"So tell me Sir Baelish," she said impatiently, "I want to know."

Littlefinger looked at the ground and smiled.

"I thought you would never ask."


	8. Chapter 8

_Here's the next chapter :) _

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

"Let's go inside," Sir Baelish insisted, "It's getting a bit stuffy out here." Sansa watched him closely and saw the way he eyed two new gardeners positioning themselves thirty feet away from their current position. Sansa nodded and was silently steered to a more deserted corridor.

Sir Baelish cleared his throat and began.

"The Tyrell's are ambitious and quite cunning. You saw the way Loras slithered his way into Joffrey's good graces and Margaery has been keeping herself busy ever since she found out about your reengagement." Sansa gave him a puzzled look. "Busy in what way?"

Sir Baelish sighed, "Oh, well she merely travels around King's Landing doing charity work. Getting close to the children, their parents…"

Sansa's eyes narrowed.

"She's gaining support."

"Very good," Littlefinger patted her on the hand.

"It's a rather ingenious plan. In fact, Margaery is a rather intelligent girl."

"Well what should I do about that then? I can't have her looking good while I stand back and do nothing."

"Quieter my dear," Sir Baelish muttered, "Charity work is easily arranged, however, the attitude for it is not."

"What do you mean?"

Sir Baelish stopped and walked right in front of Sansa. Perhaps he wasn't so short. It could be the fact that Sansa was just a very tall girl. Either way, Sir Baelish looked quite knowing and not quite so small just then.

"You are a kind and gentle girl, Sansa. But you need to be strong – " Sir Baelish smiled at Sansa who began to protest, "you are strong Sansa, but this takes a different type of strength. Your strength is a quieter kind. It allows you to survive this harsh world you've been thrust upon; Margaery, however, has a more focused strength. It's all about gaining something for herself and her name."

"I guess that's true," Sansa looked at the ground before speaking again, "So what do I need to do to get the people to trust _me_?"

"Like I said before, arranging charity work is easy, but you need to be prepared. For example, there is going to be a lot of filth and if the people see you cringe or worse yet, stare at them in disgust, you will lose them immediately."

Sansa listened to Sir Baelish. Most of his advice was common sense, but there were times when the response she should be avoiding would have been exactly what she would have done. There were a couple other pressing matters nagging at Sansa and she figured now was the best time to bring them up.

"Is Margaery someone I should try to befriend? Or is it too late?"

Sir Baelish inclined his head and smiled.

"I think it is wise to _try_ to befriend her, my lady. I can't say she will ever truly trust you but it wouldn't hurt to try…play with the cards you were dealt with, my dear." Sansa was about to ask him what those cards were when Sir Baelish spoke up.

"It seems as if I have stayed longer than I should have, but we will certainly be talking again."

Sansa was about to oblige and then she remembered.

"Wait! Sir Baelish, I need to know, is there any news of my sister?" The man's expression became soft and the look that befell him was one of pity. He walked closer to Sansa and looked her right in the eye.

"She has not been found." Sansa's face fell and she stared at the ground. She heard Littlefinger's footsteps before she felt her chin being lifted up by his hand.

"That isn't a bad thing little one." Sansa nodded and gave him a tiny smile.

"Thank you for your help. I appreciate it…no one's really tried to help since I came back."

"I know," he said simply.

"There's more I need to tell you, but at a later time – it's much more important information." With that Sir Baelish bowed to Sansa and walked briskly away.

Sansa sighed and was startled to see she was almost back to her bedchamber. She opened the door and found Joffrey sitting at the edge of her bed with his arms on his knees and his head bowed.

"Sir," Joffrey's head snapped up and he stood up straight. His eyes looked tired.

"Where have you been?" His tone was harsh. Sansa was taken aback and wondered whether she should lie to Joffrey but thought better of it.

"Sir Baelish paid me a visit and we went on a walk." Joffrey gave Sansa a hard look before speaking.

"I know." Sansa pursed her lips.

"At least you told me the truth about that…I suppose you aren't going to tell me what you talked to him about?" Sansa thought back to the conversation and figured there was nothing too important…so she told Joffrey most of their conversation, making sure to omit a few questionable topics that had been brought up.

"So in a way he's just trying to help me win favor with the people, you grace." Joffrey frowned.

"The people should be grateful to have me as King and you as future Queen…as for Margaery, I think I'll be having a few words with her." Sansa began to panic. Had she ruined everything?

"My lord, I didn't want to get Margaery in trouble. After all, what else can she do? In fact, wouldn't it be better to just let her be? The Tyrell's don't need another reason to dislike us." This was it. Sir Baelish would see just how foolish Sansa was and he would never talk to her again. Foolish, foolish girl!

Joffrey chewed on his lip and snapped, "Why has Sir Baelish shown such an interest in you all of a sudden? I've never trusted that man, mother does not think very highly of him either…"

"I promise not to talk to him ever again, my king." The words just spilled out of her mouth, it wasn't like she could take them back. Great, she'd have to meet Sir Baelish in secret now.

"Very well," Joffrey said, "I don't want to speak of that man any more, as for Margaery, I suppose I could let her keep doing whatever she's doing. I'll just make sure to keep her more heavily guarded."

Sansa suppressed the sigh of relief threatening to escape her just then and merely nodded her head and muttered her thanks.

"I suppose I should get going then," Joffrey hesitated to move though. Sansa eyed him curiously and noticed that his hand was on the hilt of his sword. It seemed as if Joffrey had a habit of putting it there whenever he became nervous…

"Tomorrow morning you will be joining mother and I for breakfast," Joffrey said abruptly. Sansa's relief turned into dread but she nodded dutifully. There was a pause and then Joffrey walked up to her and quickly kissed her on the cheek. He was gone in a flash and Sansa stood rooted to the spot. After a couple seconds she let herself smile a small smile and began to prepare for tomorrow morning.


	9. Chapter 9

_Sorry about the hiatus :(_

_Good News: I'm going to continue writing! *hooray!*_

_Bad News: Updates will be infrequent due to many reasons. One of them is that I need to go back and rewatch episodes/continue reading the books. Things have become so choppy in my head I don't want to seem stupid writing some of these details and completely messing up, you know? Obviously this is fanfiction so everything doesn't have to be perfect but STILL._

_The last time I updated was before final exams (I'm in Uni so that got very hectic). And then summer rolled around and let's just say I had a little too much fun...lol. But anyway I'm taking a break this semester and working so that I can save up money. University in America is very expensive so yeah...haha. So that's basically my excuse for not updating for nearly four months :/_

_Hope some of you are still with me! *kisses*_

* * *

**Chapter Nine:**

Breakfast next morning turned out to be unsurprisingly awkward between Cersei and Sansa. Joffrey on the other hand couldn't stop smiling.

"What a beautiful day. Mother you are looking ravishing as always and Sansa, that new dress fits you quite well."

Sansa nodded at Joffrey and quickly darted her eyes at the Queen who seemed quite affronted at the whole situation.

"Joffrey you did not tell me there would be company," she said tersely as she took a long sip of her wine. Joffrey rolled his eyes, "I don't suppose you need to know every single little detail. A king answers to no one." Cersei raised an eyebrow and took another mouthful of wine.

"Ahh, my adoring nephew and lovely sister. My lady," startled, Sansa turned around and looked down. Tyrion Lannister was bowing to her. Sansa acknowledged him with a nod and a smile and turned to look at the other two. Joffrey was not smiling anymore and it was his turn to take a swig of his wine though it seemed his mother had beaten him to hers. It took all the strength in the world for her not to laugh.

"Very well then set up a plate for me, go on," Tyrion waved at one of the servants who scurried off to the kitchen.

"What do I need to do to get some respect here for gods," he muttered. It was then that Sansa noticed the gash Tyrion had running along the right side of his face. It wasn't a horrible gash but it did nothing to help with the small man's appearance. Tyrion turned to Sansa and grinned.

"I see you've noticed the latest beauty mark on my face. Quite the story I tell you, too bad your prince here wasn't around to witness it happening." Tyrion turned to Joffrey who scowled at his uncle.

"I'm surprised you remember anything from the battle Uncle, weren't you lying in a ditch somewhere after being trampled?" Joffrey shot back.

"There now, civility," Tyrion answered back. Cersei had not said a word. She was eyeing Tyrion very curiously though; like a cat waiting to pounce.

Tyrion's food was brought out at this time. The tray was filled with fruit, sausage, and cheese. A separate person was holding a goblet and a jug filled with wine.

"Ahh, finally, nourishment." Tyrion reached for the wine first, poured it to the rim and raised it for a toast.

Their breakfast cut itself quite short after that. Sansa picked at her food and watched the dysfunctional breakfast party before her. Joffrey had a scowl on his face and he kept darting his eyes at his uncle while Cersei made very curt small talk with Tyrion who kept focusing his attention at Sansa. At last, Joffrey excused himself and Sansa. It wasn't long before he began to complain.

"That imp has it coming I tell you, if it wasn't for Grandfather I would have exiled him beyond the wall!"

"Yes he does seem to enjoy striking a nerve," Sansa piped in.

"He not only strikes but blatantly disrespects me, his king! I've had it with him, one more snarky comment and I'll have him gone."

Sansa nodded and thought to herself how very clueless Joffrey was. Although Tyrion was walking on thin ice, Joffrey really had no choice but to keep him at King's Landing. Besides, the small man had some very big ideas and would probably get his way no matter what hurdles Joffrey put in his way.

At that precise moment two very familiar faces were heading towards Sansa and the King.

Shae's look of surprise was mirrored in both Sansa and Joffrey, Margaery, however, looked quite pleased, if not a little giddy. Both women halted about two feet away and curtsied. Joffrey was at a loss for words though but the way his nostrils were flaring and the twisted way his mouth was shaped made it obvious he was not pleased.

"Your majesty," Margaery inquired.

Silence.

Sansa cleared her throat and was about to say something when Joffrey stepped in.

"Margaery," his voice was clipped and he tilted his head a fraction to the left, "how _funny_ to see you strolling around this part of the castle."

Margaery didn't seem to be fazed by the King's unwelcoming tone. She merely stood up a little straighter than usual and gave him a small smile.

"Ah well my bedchambers were becoming a little stuffy and as I am still your guest I figured it was ok for me to go for a little stroll." Her smile grew wider.

Joffrey nodded his head once and cleared his throat.

"Of course..Sansa," Joffrey snapped, turning to Sansa than back to Margaery, "Well since we're all here I'd like to formerly introduce you to my fiancee."

Sansa could feel her whole face turning pink yet managed to nod her head towards Margaery's direction.

"Very nice to meet you Sansa, it's too bad we couldn't have met sooner." The implications behind Margaery's sentence was unclear to Sansa but she didn't think it was a positive one so she just brushed it off.

"Yes, a shame really," Sansa answered back.

Joffrey seemed to be enjoying this very awkward introduction considering the way he was grinning from ear to ear. It was clear that he wanted to rub Sansa in Margaery's face but to Sansa it didn't seem like Margaery cared at all. Oblivious to this small fact though, Joffrey grabbed Sansa's hand and guided her closer to him. This gesture did seem to catch Margaery off guard from the way she glanced down at their hands for a fraction of a second. Joffrey's grin widened.

"Well this was lovely but we really must get going, Sansa still has to pick out her wedding dress," Joffrey patted Sansa's hand and bowed at the woman who curtsied back at him.

"Of course," Margaery said nonchalantly.

"Oh and Margaery," her eyebrows perked up, "I need to have a word with you later today." And with that he gave them their back and strode off to his bed chambers, dragging poor Sansa along with him.

* * *

Back at his quarters Joffrey's facade disappeared.

"The nerve." He snapped at his guards, "out."

He paced back and forth, unsheathed his sword and beckoned Sansa to step closer. He gently placed the sword on the palms of her hands and stared at his reflection. Sansa held her breath and watched him closely.

He looked so young and angry. He was only boy. You could hardly tell he was 17 years old, almost a man! There was also hardly any facial hair on him. Some peach fuzz on his upper lip. There weren't any lines of worry, stress, or even laughter on his face. Had he ever laughed at anything other than other people's fears and misfortune? Sansa couldn't quite recall. Perhaps as a child...

It took her a while before realizing Joffrey was now studying _her_ face but when she realized it Sansa jumped and the sword clattered to the floor.

"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't, I forgot," She was so busy apologizing and bending down to pick up Joffrey's precious sword she didn't realize that she had cut her self.

"Leave it there," Joffrey demanded. Sansa gulped and was about to wipe the blood coming from her palms on her dress but Joffrey snatched them up.

"This was expensive," His eyebrows furrowed, "and you need to wash the wound," his eyes softened. Sansa nodded, dazed and followed him to the sink.

There he grabbed a bowl and gently poured water over the wound. His face was neither cold or warm. Just, detached. Sansa's face sagged.

Who was this boy and what exactly did he want from her. Most time he was cold, cruel, and snarky, but other times he seemed almost human, almost as if he actually cared.

Sansa was having one of her zoning out moments. One minute she was doing something and her mind would wander off and before she knew it she was somewhere else with completely different people and she had no idea how she got there.

This was one of those times.

She found herself sitting on Joffrey's bed. Her hands were bandaged up and she was staring at Joffrey's naked back. She gulped and watched the way his back muscles moved every time he changed his position. She needed to say something though. She had a feeling there had been silence on her part for way too long.

"Joffrey," her voice croaked, she hadn't spoken in so long, or so she thought.

Joffrey turned around. His face had that detached look again.

"You're feeling better?"

Sansa nodded, "I can hardly feel anything."

"I figured as much. The wounds weren't very deep, but sometimes the smallest cut can be the worst..."

"I agree," Sansa said. There was silence, but not the bad kind. Not really.

"How long has it been?"

"Since your cut?" Sansa nodded, "A couple hours." Sansa stood up way too fast, she fell back again, dizzy. Joffrey rushed to her.

"Damn it Sansa stop hurting yourself," Sansa rubbed her head.

"A couple hours?! I can't believe I was out of it for so long..."

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does. And you've been here the whole time?"

At this Joffrey turned his face away.

"No. I went and talked to Margaery." Sansa narrowed her eyes.

"About what?" Joffrey turned to look at her. He was annoyed.

"I don't need to tell you anything." Sansa pursed her lips and stood up, this time she didn't feel dizzy.

"Fine. I'll be in my bed chambers, your majesty," she spat out the last word and hurried out the door.

"Sansa!" Joffrey was calling out her name. She didn't stop. She began to run.

"Fuck, Sansa, stop her!" Joffrey sounded like a child. A whiny child. One guard was all it took to bring her down. She didn't even try to fight. Joffrey turned the corner and sped up to her. She could see his hands turning into fists. He clenched and unclenched them and his jaw was clamped shut. He walked to her until there was hardly an inch of space between them.

"Don't. Ever. Walk. Away. From. Me. Especially when I'm speaking to you." His eyes were wild with anger and his hair was messy.

"Let her go," he said without ever leaving his eyes off of her. She didn't try to run away. She didn't know what was coming next.

"Walk," Joffrey said and nodded towards her bed chamber. Sansa gulped and nodded once before turning her back to Joffrey.


End file.
